Land of Snow and Blood
by QueenofIceandSnow
Summary: Since the death of her family, Elsa has ruled over Arendelle as a ruthless tyrant. Those who do not fear the queen hate her, and Elsa hates in turn... until a woman emerges to fight against her who seems to be her long-lost sister, Anna. Eventual Elsanna.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Everyone knew the story.

Agnarr and Iduna had been gracious sovereigns. Their rule had been just and kind. All people had loved them and respected their wisdom.

But their firstborn child was their undoing. The king and queen's only sin had been that they loved their daughter overmuch and did not slay her the instant they saw the evil curse upon her.

For, though born to be queen, ice ran in that abomination's blood and she was possessed of powers too terrible to imagine.

Agnarr and Iduna had tried to show the creature love, but soon her might had grown so much that they shrank from her in fear.

In the end, they were forced to shut her away – for their own safety, for the safety of their youngest daughter, and for the greater protection of the realm.

But the formidable young sorceress would not be shut in darkness.

One night, she slew her father and mother while they slept. Their screams had echoed beyond the castle walls, ringing out in darkness… When the morning came, men found the mangled body of King Agnarr crucified to the castle gate with bolts of ice, his lifeless face fallen forward, blanched with terror. His loving wife was speared beside him, a silver-white spike goring her throat.

The castle itself was collapsed in around them – all except the gate, which stood still in grotesque mockery. (They had thought that they could confine this witch, and now, sneeringly, she spat their intentions back in their faces.) All the splendor that they and their line had built had been demolished by whirling snow. Corpses of servants and maids were strewn about. The body of the witch's sister was lost to the rubble…

That was the story of why the witch ruled in Arendelle, governing the land with iron force. That was the story folk whispered in their malcontent.

That was the story that was the lifeblood pumping through the ranks of the resistance. The resistance – this small band of honorable men and women fighting against the dark queen, Elsa…


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

 _Elsa_

" _Mama! Papa!"_

Elsa's nights had been plagued with nightmares for as long as she could remember. All through her childhood, one scene kept replaying over and over in her mind – the scene of her cradling her limp little sister, sobbing helplessly, not knowing what to do.

Nothing horrified Elsa more when she was a little girl. She had hurt Anna. She had hurt her little sister, whom she loved more than anything.

She hadn't meant to do it…

The image of Anna's small, lifeless form haunted Elsa's dreams without end. She would wake up sobbing in her room as though she had freshly relived the anguish she experienced during the accident. A thousand times over, in fact, she _did_ relive it. Imprinted in the dreams was every ounce of pain and guilt little Elsa had suffered over the course of that one night – the agony over what she had done to Anna, the dread as she and her family raced to the strange and mysterious trolls…

And every time she awoke, young Elsa's face would be drenched with tears that turned to ice as they leaked from her eyes, stinging her like barbs. Without fail, jagged forms of ice would be stretched across her room – the product of her frenzied night terrors.

And for all those nights that stretched into years, Elsa wanted nothing more than a hug from someone close to her – from her mama or papa, from Anna…

Her parents tried to be understanding at first. They saw their little child lost in desperation.

But the more desperate Elsa became, the more her parents lost hope in her.

At first, Elsa's isolation was only meant to be a temporary measure while she and her parents strove to find a way to control her icy magic. In the early days, Elsa remembered her mother smiling sweetly down at her, delicately trying to guide her.

But as Elsa's nightmares grew more terrible, so did the actions of her mother and father. Her papa grew so frustrated with her. Elsa could see the anger glinting behind his eyes, even as he tried to keep calm around her.

There came a time when both the king and queen refused to touch their daughter, and only recoiled when they found her sobbing pathetically in bed.

This, of course, only made Elsa's pain worse… and the worse Elsa's pain got, the worse her mother and father became.

As Elsa was growing out of childhood – now fragile as a snowflake on the air – her father began more readily to lose his temper. The glint of anger behind his eyes gleamed brighter. He would yell at her – then catch himself, but the resounding bellow would reverberate in the silence that followed his outburst.

The king was sick of this.

Elsa didn't know what to do. The more she pleaded with her father for understanding, the more infuriated he seemed to grow.

 _She was doing this on purpose_ , he said, _doing this to spite him. She didn't really want to change for the better at all, because if she did, she would have actually made some damned progress over the course of years. She just wasn't trying…_

 _But I am!_ Elsa's voice was high and thin, choking back the sobs she knew would only enrage her father more. _Every single day… Papa, please!_

 _Then you're just useless_ , her father said finally, in a tone that struck home deeply how unworthy Elsa was to be his daughter.

During tortured exchanges like those, the queen said nothing. She was like her husband's shadow, following him silently wherever he went – trembling and mute against a distant wall… trying to sink into the other shadows of the room... to dissolve herself…

Whenever her mother's eyes met Elsa's, Elsa could see she was torn inside… but her mother rarely looked into her child's eyes, and never intervened on her behalf during her father's rages…

It was as if her mother wanted to be anywhere than in that icy room, tortured by the conflict within her family.

That stung Elsa. She remembered her mother's distance. She kept it in her mind. It was the deciding factor for her on that fateful day.

On that day, Elsa dared to bring up Anna.

 _P-please…_ she stammered feebly to the imposing figure of her father. _C-can I talk to her again? Anna…_

Her father's reply was colder than her own ice. _Anna? Elsa, you know that's impossible. Don't you still want to keep your sister safe?_

 _Of- Of course._ Freezing teardrops pricked Elsa's eyes. She wanted to keep Anna safe always. She knew her wish to see her sister was silly, knew it was hurtful and selfish and could open Anna up to harm… but at the same time, Elsa was so lonely… so lonely… _I just… I just thought…_

 _Thought what?_ her father demanded. _Thought you'd expose your sister to danger again?_

 _Please…_ Elsa whimpered. _It's been ages…_

 _And in that time_ , her father said sternly, _you have only gotten worse. You sob so much about Anna on the floor of the ballroom when you were little, but think of what you could do now! Do you want to see her dead? Eh? An icicle through her skull?_

The king's moustache was bristling now, and he was in one of those great furies that had grown so common in him. Elsa curled deeper into herself.

 _No_ , Elsa murmured softly, _no._

 _There was a time,_ the king went on, _when I had faith that you could learn to control yourself, when I was optimistic that the day would come that you'd be able to run to Anna and hug her and everything would be as before. But what am I supposed to say now, so many years on? What even are you? Are you my daughter? Look at me, girl, when I'm speaking to you! Are you my daughter or some changeling the fairies put in place of my firstborn? Are you some curse upon me for the sins of my forebears? God forgive me for keeping you under this roof for so long! What madness possessed me to do it? Love? Love for what, for you?_

 _Please_ , Elsa whispered, _stop._

Winds began to whip around her, and seeing this, the king became even more lost to his fervor. _Look at you. In a few short years, you will be old enough to take the throne yourself._ He turned imperiously to his wife, gesturing towards his tormented daughter. _Shall we have_ _ **that**_ _sit upon the throne of Arendelle when we are dead?_ Her father swung once more towards Elsa. _If you cannot control what is inside you, how can you be expected to control a state? Unless you_ _ **are**_ _in control, in which case, how can I, in good conscience let a witch reign after me?_

 _But…_ Elsa's voice was strained. _Anna…_

Somehow, over the tempest rising in the room, her father seized upon Elsa's words. _I'll never let my daughter lay eyes on you again, not with what you've become._

The king was letting the weight of countless years fall from him as he spoke, not caring that the burden was sliding from his back and onto Elsa's. Already, the heaviness upon Elsa was more than she could bear. Already, she felt her spine bending – near to splintering – under the crippling forces of shame and guilt and degradation. But her father's final words were what snapped something inside her.

 _She was never going to see Anna again. She was never going to see Anna again. ShewasNEVERgoingtoseeAnnaagain._

Anna had always been the light in the darkness for Elsa. The warmth of Anna's rosy cheeks and smile, the golden music of her voice, had burned in Elsa's soul like the brightest candle. And now, that candle's light was snuffed out. The last flickers of hope Elsa had – hope that this crucible of hers could have a happy ending – were dead.

Elsa tried to squeeze herself into a ball – a bristling ball of anguish. She gritted her teeth, shut her eyes tightly, let the tears burn at the edge of her eyes instead of letting them fall like shards to scar her face. Elsa clung to herself. She hugged herself close, the wind around her drowning out whatever more her father had to say.

The onslaught of emotion was just too much. She could not keep it in.

She screamed.

Her scream was a senseless, broken cry – like that of a wounded beast in the snow. Elsa wanted to scream and scream until her throat was raw, but even after she felt her throat seared, she kept on howling. Ice coated the floor and the walls of her room. It coated the door that had held her in this cell since childhood.

Against the ice, the wood of the door buckled. Then, with an explosive blast, it shattered all to pieces.

That noise like a thunderclap jolted Elsa, and for an instant, she was lucid enough to see her father's face – and, in it, she saw only mercilessness.

Her father lunged at her, any fear he might have had purged by righteous fury. All thought of his own safety cast aside, he struck his daughter twice across the face. Elsa raised her arms to fend off his blows, and when she did, bolts of ice shot from her fingertips.

The king staggered backward, blood drenching his stomach, and it was in looking into his remorseless eyes that Elsa knew… she truly was a monster…

She had always been told that she was. In his anger, her father had taken to calling her a demon time and time again. But Elsa had always tried to hide from those words and deny them. She had told herself that she was a good girl… that she had to be a good girl… for everyone else… for Anna…

But what was the point now? She could not go back from this.

 _Even Anna would hate her now…_

Her father's body hit the floor with a sickening thud, his blood burning red on the brilliant blue ice.

This was past the point of no return.

It was horrific… and Elsa felt that horror… but she also felt an overwhelming relief, almost euphoria…

Her father was dead… and she felt… good… about it. Her hands trembled – what a monstrous feeling! God forgive her… but no, God wouldn't forgive her, not now…

Elsa's whole body trembled, guilt and warped triumph roiling inside her. Her breathing was ragged as she raised her eyes…

…and saw her mother whimpering in the shadows…

Her mother's face was deathly pale. Her dark eyes were wide with terror. Yet, she did not flee through the shattered door. It was as if a paralysis had overtaken her limbs. Nor did she scream. The only sound that issued from her lips was that low, desperate, whining moan…

Elsa studied her mother's wan face for the longest moment, thinking of all the times she had looked pleadingly to her mama when her father was in a rage… and only saw the queen bow her head and say _nothing._

With a sudden, swift movement, Elsa pierced her mother's throat with a point of ice, watching the bloom of her crimson blood spread across her white neck. Her mother's eyes bulged. A gargling rattle shook her slim form as she choked on her own blood.

And until her mother's eyes misted over with death, Elsa looked into them, reflecting on the times without number when her mother seemed desperate to act as if her eldest daughter did not exist.

Elsa did not let her mother turn her eyes from her this one last time.

What happened next, Elsa barely knew. There were guardsmen. There were spears. There was clamoring. She battled them out of instinct, like an animal would, and when Elsa was conscious of herself the next morning, the castle of Arendelle was a ruin…

It was the stuff of nightmares… and indeed, from that day on, Elsa had another nightmare that would haunt her mind every night…

But Elsa was used to nightmares.


End file.
